


falling in love with their best friend's partner au

by fangirlscribbles



Series: tumblr prompts [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-02
Packaged: 2018-03-16 00:39:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3467933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlscribbles/pseuds/fangirlscribbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>number 43 off <a href="http://question-meme.tumblr.com/post/93700293417/send-me-a-ship-and-a-number-and-ill-write-a-short">this list</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	falling in love with their best friend's partner au

Ian had been best friends with Clary since… well, honestly he couldn’t quite remember. He asked Fiona once, but she just said “since kindergarten”, so that wasn’t much help. Either way, there was no doubt about the fact that Clary and Ian were best friends, two sides of the same coin, thick as thieves, etcetera, etcetera.  
  
When they were a bit younger, Lip had always teased Ian and said there’d be a day when Ian would fall in love with Clary – or when Clary would fall in love with him. Lip’s prophecy did almost come true, too; there was a point in time when Clary had a minor crush on Ian, when they were thirteen. But all that came from that was that Ian came out as gay to Clary and his family, and Clary’s crush passed quite quickly after that.  
  
Now they were sixteen and Clary was telling Ian about her new boyfriend. Her eyes were shining and she was gesticulating excitedly. Ian couldn’t help but smile widely as he watched her.  
  
“He’s a little scary, though,” Clary said, but she was smiling as well, “I mean, he’s got _fuck u-up_ tattooed across his knuckles.” She ran a finger across her own knuckles as if to emphasize and Ian chuckled. “But he’s so small! He’s 18, but I think he’s almost a head shorter than you. I don’t see how that’s very threatening.”  
  
Ian laughed. “Yeah, sounds like I could probably take him in a fight,” he nodded. “If he ever hurts you or something, I mean.”  
  
Clary just rolled her eyes. “Please don’t fight him,” she said. She was looking at Ian with a serious face now, but her eyes were still lit up so Ian didn’t worry that she was actually angry at him. “He has a shitload of weapons.”  
  
“Whoa. Dating a thug, huh?” Ian teased. “Never thought you’d be the type.”  
  
“Neither did I,” Clary admitted, laughing and poking Ian’s side. “Honestly, I think he’s more your type… But there’s just something about him that I like.”  
  
Ian gasped in pretend shock. “My type? You’re dating a guy that’s my type? What kind of betrayal is this?” He put a hand to his heart, looking at Clary with wide eyes in mock hurt.  
  
It earned him a punch to his arm and a laugh from his friend. “Jesus, stop it. I mean, I don’t think he’s gay, but if it turns out that he is and that he likes you – he’s all yours.”  
  
Ian nodded, schooling his features into the most serious look he could muster. “You better.” Clary just snorted and rolled her eyes.  
  
And that was all they said about Clary’s boyfriend that day.

 

 

 

 

Ian met him for the first time two weeks later. In those two weeks, Clary hadn’t really said anything about him and Ian hadn’t asked. They had both been way too caught up with school and their respective hobbies; ROTC for Ian and gymnastics for Clary. She had some big competition coming up, so she was practicing even more than usual.  
  
But Clary invited him to a small-scale party she’d arranged one Friday, two weeks after the conversation about her boyfriend.  
  
“Give me one good reason I should go,” Ian said into his pillow, half-heartedly watching Clary try to decide what she would wear. He honestly had no idea why she’d bring a sports bag full of clothes to his place instead of just deciding on her outfit at home. “I’m exhausted.”  
  
Clary sighed and turned to face him with that _really, Ian, really_ look she had that meant Ian would do as she said, sooner or later. There was no use fighting it, really.  
  
“For one, because I am your best friend,” she said, holding up a finger, “second, because my boyfriend will be there and I want you to meet him. Third, because his sister will also come and I will need your help to deal with her.”  
  
Ian turned onto his back so it’d be easier to look at her. She continued giving him that look, not even turning around when Lip entered the room and let out a surprised noise at seeing her standing there in her underwear. Ian didn’t know how she did it – completely ignore him like that when he was shamelessly ogling her boobs and ass. It was disgusting, really.  
  
“Sister’s that bad, huh?” Ian asked, and Clary nodded, her red curls bouncing. “What’s your boyfriend’s name, anyway? I don’t think you said.”  
  
Clary sighed again and finally turned away, bending over to rummage through her bag again. Ian tried not to notice the way Lip looked at her ass.  
  
“Mickey,” Clary muttered, pulling something tiny and shiny out of her bag.  
  
Ian sat up. “Not as in Milkovich, right?” He had never actually met any of the Milkovich family – except Mandy, but that was only because she was in his class – but he knew about them. Everyone on the Southside did. “Clary, please tell me you’re not dating Mickey Milkovich.”  
  
Clary pulled the tiny shiny dress over her head and didn’t look at Ian until she was sure it covered her ass and made her legs look good. “I’m dating Mickey Milkovich,” she said then, defiance clear in her voice.  
  
Ian fell back onto his mattress with a groan. “Jesus, Clary.”  
  
The fact that his best friend was dating Mickey Milkovich settled the whole party argument – Ian was going. There was no way he’d leave his best friend alone with two Milkoviches.  
  
“Who else will be there?”  
  
Clary shrugged. “Not that many.” She pulled the dress over her head again, having found something better he wanted to wear. “Like, a few people from our class. Their plus-ones, maybe some of their siblings. I don’t know, I said they were allowed to invite a maximum of two more people.”  
  
“And that equals to a maximum of how many people?” Ian squinted at Clary, trying not to sigh when she pulled on a crop top that read _baby girl_ in a pink, embellished print, and a pair of tiny black shorts.  
  
“Fifty, I think,” Clary shrugged, frowning a little as she pulled a sheer top out of her bag and pulled it on over the crop top, which was really more like a sports bra, Ian thought. She turned to face him, spreading her arms out. “Does this look good?”  
  
Ian looked her up and down. “I’d prefer it if you wore longer shorts,” he said, “but yeah, I guess.”  
  
“You guess?” Clary rolled her eyes. “Christ, I thought gays were supposed to be into fashion.”  
  
“Whatever.”

 

 

 

 

Clary ended up wearing the crop top and sheer shirt with a skirt that was at least a few centimetres longer than the shorts. She’d forced Ian into a pair of skinny jeans she’d bought for him a few weeks earlier, a plaid shirt and the nicest jacket he owned. She’d even styled his hair.  
  
“Come on, I don’t want you to look like a hobo in front of my boyfriend,” she argued when Ian rolled his eyes and asked why she had to style his hair.  
  
“Yeah, I’ll look like a fag instead and end up getting fag bashed by Mickey Milkovich,” he’d muttered, but Clary had punched him in the stomach and effectively ended that argument.  
  
Ian ended up having to open the door for Mickey, seeing as Clary was fixing the last few things before the party would start. Mickey looked severely unimpressed as he looked Ian up and down. His sister looked vaguely more appreciative as she did the same thing, and Ian took a few seconds to send a prayer to whatever deity would listen that she wouldn’t try to get him into bed.  
  
“Clary here or what?” Mickey said after a moment and Ian nodded, stepping aside to let the siblings in.  
  
“Yeah, she’s just fixing a few things. I’m Ian, by the way.”  
  
Mickey just nodded and sauntered past Ian into the house, presumably to look for Clary, but his sister stayed.  
  
“I’m Mandy,” she said, smiling and stretching her hand out for Ian to take. Ian shook it and smiled politely at her before he gently pulled away and followed Mickey into the kitchen, where Clary was fixing the snacks table.  
  
“Hey, babe!” she greeted when she caught sight of Mickey.  
  
Ian thought he heard Mickey let out an annoyed huff at the nickname, but thought he must have imagined it when Mickey leaned in to place a kiss on Clary’s cheek. He seemed sweeter than Ian would have guessed from looking at him.  
  
However, Clary had been right about one thing – Ian did find Mickey incredibly attractive. _Dammit_.

 

 

 

 

An hour and a half later, the party was in full swing. Perhaps not as much as it would’ve been if there had been more people, but it was more than enough if you asked Ian. Probably Mickey too, if the way he’d retreated to a corner with a bottle of beer was anything to go by.  
  
Ian himself was standing on the opposite side of the room, leaning against the wall and sipping at his cup of something Clary had mixed for him. He thought it was a bit sweet, but it had alcohol in it so he wasn’t about to complain.  
  
“So what do you think?” Clary asked, sidling up to him from out of nowhere.  
  
Ian looked down at her, raising his eyebrows a little. “Of what, the party?” He knew exactly what she was talking about, and it wasn’t the party, but he couldn’t help but tease her a little.  
  
She rolled her eyes, pushing at him with her shoulder. “No, dumbass. My boyfriend.”  
  
Ian lifted his gaze and looked up to where Mickey was standing against his own wall. He wasn’t expecting Mickey to be staring back intensely, jerking a little in surprise. Clary didn’t seem to have noticed, which Ian was thankful for.  
  
“He’s… definitely my type,” he admitted, the alcohol in his system making him perhaps a little more honest than he’d be otherwise.  
  
Clary didn’t seem to take offense, however, laughing and pushing at him again. “See, I told you so!” she just said. Then she became a little more serious, nodding to herself. “I’ll take that as approval.”  
  
“You do that,” Ian chuckled, unable to resist ruffling her hair. She may have been the same age as Ian, but she was only a third of his size and sometimes Ian felt more like she was his little sister. It always earned him a glare to treat her as such – like he was doing now, ruffling her hair and approving of her boyfriend like a protective big brother – but he knew she secretly loved it. She had no siblings of her own, so Ian would have to do.  
  
As soon as Clary had gone off to make sure her guests were enjoying themselves, Mickey crossed the room to come stand next to Ian. Ian was a bit surprised, but did his best to play it cool and not let his emotions show.  
  
“How do you know Clary, again?” Mickey asked by way of greeting and Ian rolled his eyes. Were they really going to do this?  
  
“I’m her best friend,” Ian answered, “and her pseudo-big brother when she wants me to be.”  
  
Mickey snorted. “Is that so,” he said, leaning against the wall next to Ian and taking a sip of his beer. “So you don’t have a thing for her or something?”  
  
“Nope,” Ian answered, perhaps a little cheerier than necessary. “Never had, never will.”  
  
This time, Mickey turned his head to look at Ian with a slightly incredulous look on his face. “So you’re as faggy as you look, then?” he asked, and Ian felt his face go red.  
  
“If I say yes, will you beat me up?”  
  
Mickey just rolled his eyes, and Ian relaxed a little. They stood there in silence for a few minutes, before Mickey let out what Ian thought was an impatient noise and sauntered off. Later, Ian would blame it on the alcohol, but he seized the opportunity to admire Mickey’s ass as he walked off.  
  
A while later, after having been forced to dance with Clary and getting another drink, Ian was approached by Mandy. She was smiling coyly, holding a cup in her hand and pushing her breasts up in a way she thought was subtle.  
  
“My brother scare you off Clary yet?” she asked playfully, and Ian smiled at her. She seemed nice, even if he didn’t like the way she came onto him.  
  
“Didn’t need to,” he replied, “I was never interested in Clary.”  
  
Mandy raised her eyebrows, and her smile got a little wider. “Not your type?”  
  
Ian hummed. “You could say that,” he nodded. He pretended not to notice when Mandy leaned against the wall next to him, pressing up against his side. Instead he looked out over the dance floor, maybe or maybe not looking for Mickey, but definitely ignoring the twinge of disappointment he felt when he saw Mickey making out with Clary.  
  
“Am I more your type?” Mandy asked then, her voice lower and more seductive. When Ian looked at her, she was biting her lower lip and looking up at him from under her lashes.  
  
Ian sighed. There was really no better way to do this, he thought. “Mandy, you’re gorgeous, and you seem like a great girl,” he started, feeling a little like a jerk when her face immediately fell, “but you’re not really my type, either.”  
  
She looked confused and a little sad and okay, now Ian felt really bad. Dammit.  
  
“Then what is your type?” Mandy asked, sounding a little insecure.  
  
“Someone with a dick,” Ian replied bluntly, giving her a wry smile.  
  
Now Mandy looked more embarrassed than anything, cheeks red and eyes a little wide. “Oh,” she said softly. “I’m sorry. I’ll just… go.”  
  
She started to move away, but Ian reached out and grabbed her arm on impulse. “No, don’t go,” he said, pulling her back towards him. “I may not be into you like that, but I’d love to be your friend.”  
  
Her entire face lit up, and Ian felt himself relax, grinning back at her. “Really?” she asked, and Ian nodded. She quickly composed herself, swallowing her wide smile and relaxing against the wall next to him. “Cool.”  
  
Ian laughed a little. He wasn’t quite sure how his two closest friends – he could already tell he and Mandy would get along well – ended up being girls, but he didn’t mind. He may not be into them, but girls were cool.

 

 

 

 

The next time Ian saw Mickey was a week later, and he was considerably drunker. Over the course of the past week, he’d come to the conclusion that he really, really liked Clary’s boyfriend. Especially since they’d had more free time over this week, and she’d talked more about him when she wasn’t as stressed over school and gymnastics. Everything she said about him, the way she described what he said and did, what he liked, made Ian like him more.  
  
He may be falling a little bit in love, and he hated himself for it. Mickey was not only straight and a Milkovich, he was his _best friend’s boyfriend._ Christ, Ian, get a grip, he admonished himself.  
  
Nonetheless, when he saw Mickey at a neighbourhood barbecue, he couldn’t help but ogle him. He didn’t even realize how unsubtle he was until Mickey came up to him, looking very unimpressed and a little pissed off.  
  
“The fuck you staring at, Gallagher?” he asked, and Ian thought oh, he’s definitely pissed off.  
  
He meant to say _nothing_ , or maybe _I wasn’t staring_ , but what came out of his mouth was, “you.” Oops.  
  
Mickey looked even angrier now, but also a bit confused. “What the fuck?”  
  
Oh. Mickey’s angry face was really cute. “I just.” Ian shrugged. Or tried to, at least. His coordination wasn’t the greatest right now. “You’re gorgeous.” Oh, fuck. He really hoped Clary wasn’t around – and if she was, that she wasn’t within hearing distance.  
  
Ian thought that if there hadn’t been so many people around, Mickey probably would’ve beaten him up. “Shut the fuck up, Gallagher,” he spat instead, looking around him. He seemed almost scared, Ian thought, but that couldn’t be right. Milkoviches weren’t scared. Mickey especially didn’t seem like the scared type. “Now leave me the fuck alone, and stop fucking staring.”  
  
When Mickey turned around to leave, Ian reached out and grabbed his arm, much like he’d done to Mandy a week earlier. “Sorry, no can do,” Ian said, shrugging a little when Mickey looked at him incredulously. “You’re too hot.”  
  
Mickey rolled his eyes. “Oh for fuck’s-“ But his swearing was cut short when Ian jerked on his arm, pulling him into an alley.  
  
Ian may have overestimated his balance at the moment, the sudden movement making him stumble and fall on his ass, almost dragging Mickey with him. Mickey didn’t look the least amused, but Ian laughed and stretched a hand out.  
  
“Help me up, man,” he managed to get out between giggles. Mickey sighed and rolled his eyes, but grabbed Ian’s hand and dragged him up.  
  
The movement brought Ian closer to Mickey than either of them had anticipated, and both of them froze for a moment. Then Ian grinned, moving even closer. Mickey backed away, until he was pressed against the wall of the alley.  
  
“You’re really, really hot,” Ian whispered, before moving in and placing his lips on Mickey’s.  
  
They were both still for a moment – Ian in shock, thinking he’d fucked up his chances both at continuing to be friends with Clary and getting out of this alley alive.  
  
But then Mickey kissed back, and all rational thought disappeared from Ian’s mind. God, Mickey was a great kisser. Or maybe Ian was just drunk and the fact that Mickey was really hot made him seem greater than he was.  
  
Ian moaned into Mickey’s mouth, pressing himself against Mickey’s body and moaning again when he felt Mickey’s erection against his hip. He pulled away for a moment to breathe, heat curling in his stomach when Mickey dropped his head to Ian’s shoulder and Ian could both hear and feel his heavy breathing.  
  
“ _Fuck_ ,” Mickey whined when Ian started thrusting against him, hands moving to grip Ian’s shoulders so hard he’d probably get bruises.  
  
Ian whined in agreement, nudging Mickey’s head with his chin to kiss him again. They dry-humped until they came in their pants like the pair of horny teenagers they were, and Ian was pretty sure it was the hottest thing he’d ever done or ever would do in his life.  
  
“Shit,” he breathed afterwards, slumping against Mickey. “That was hot.”  
  
Mickey grunted, squirming a little but not pushing Ian off. Ian wondered if Mickey was as surprised by that as Ian. He didn’t seem like the type of guy who’d do post-coital cuddling, even if this wasn’t exactly cuddling. It was close enough, Ian thought.  
  
Eventually, Mickey did push him off, but he stayed close. “No one can know about this,” he said lowly, staring into Ian’s eyes. Ian was pretty sure he intended to sound threatening – and he did, to some extent – but Ian mostly thought he sounded hot as hell. “ _No one_. You hear me?”  
  
Dazedly, Ian nodded. He was starting to realize just what he’d done. He’d gotten off with Mickey Milkovich – who was not only a Milkovich, jesus christ, but also _Clary’s boyfriend_.  
  
“Fuck,” he said to himself then, barely aware of Mickey anymore. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck._ ”  
  
“Yeah,” Mickey agreed, voice rough. “Fuck.” Then he pushed Ian aside and moved towards the mouth of the alley. Just before he exited, he turned to look at Ian. “This won’t be happening again,” he said, and then he was gone.  
  
Ian agreed that this shouldn’t happen again, but he had a sneaking suspicion it might. He was falling for Mickey Milkovich – and Mickey was obviously attracted to Ian as well. Otherwise this wouldn’t have happened.  
  
Nonetheless, he hoped it wouldn’t. He didn’t want to hurt Clary.  
  
“Fuck,” he swore one more time before following Mickey out of the alley.

 

 

 

 

Much like Ian had predicted, it did happen again. And this time it was worse. Ian, Mickey and Mandy were at Clary’s house and Mickey and Ian were alone upstairs while the girls were downstairs in the kitchen, making dinner. Clary’s parents were working late today – as they did quite often, being doctors and all – so it was on Clary to make dinner.  
  
The tension between Mickey and Ian that had been there all afternoon became even more noticeable when the girls left the room. Mickey was sitting on Clary’s bed, staring stonily at the wall opposite him, and Ian was sitting at the desk, determinedly staring down at the top of it.  
  
“ _Fuck_ ,” Mickey suddenly swore in a harsh whisper. Ian could practically hear the _I give up_ that came after, even if Mickey didn’t say it out loud.  
  
He got off the bed, moving towards the door. When he got to the doorway, he turned to look at Ian with raised eyebrows. “You coming or what?”  
  
Ian couldn’t help it, a smirk spreading across his face. “Probably, yeah.” Mickey just rolled his eyes and left the room, Ian following close behind.  
  
They had sex in the bathroom, and Ian was pretty sure it would’ve been the best fuck of his life if it wasn’t for the guilt that came after.  
  
“I’m not…” Mickey said in the thick silence that followed their orgasms, sitting on the edge of the bathtub and staring down at the floor. “I’m not into girls. Clary’s… I like her, but she’s… I don’t fucking know, man.” He looked up at Ian, looking almost angry. “Why am I even telling you this?”  
  
“She’s not your type?” Ian suggested, ignoring Mickey’s question.  
  
Mickey snorted. “I guess you could say that.” He looked away again, one of his legs bouncing up and down. He sighed, dipping his head down so he could run his hands through his hair without lifting his elbows from his knees. “Fuck, I need a cigarette.”  
  
Then he stood up and left so quickly Ian felt like he got whiplash, and he was left alone to deal with what he’d done.  
  
He’d had sex with his best friend’s boyfriend in said best friend’s bathroom – and he’d done it stone cold sober. Ian was fairly certain he’d never be able to look Clary in the eyes again.

 

 

 

 

It continued for several weeks. Whenever they had a few minutes alone, Ian and Mickey were on each other – furiously making out, dry humping, fucking. As long as they had their hands on each other, it didn’t really matter what they were doing.  
  
It ended one day when Ian, Mickey and Mandy had all been invited to sleep over at Clary’s house. Her parents were gone for the weekend and Ian knew from years of experience that she didn’t like sleeping alone in her house. He could understand her – her house was giant, and being alone in it at night tended to generate a horror movie-like feeling.  
  
They were all sleeping in Clary’s room, mostly because they were too lazy to find somewhere else to sleep. Mickey was sharing Clary’s bed while Ian and Mandy slept on the floor.  
  
In the middle of the night, Ian was woken up by a not-as-gentle-as-it-could’ve-been kick to his ribs. He wasn’t very surprised to find that it was Mickey, nudging him with his foot and hissing at him to get the fuck up.  
  
Ian did, stumbling after Mickey out of the room and into the corridor outside it. “What?” he groaned, too tired to say much else.  
  
“I’m horny as fuck,” Mickey answered, leading the way to one of the guest rooms.  
  
Ian felt his stomach drop, guilt taking its place. It wasn’t like he was about to say no – he never did, seemed unable to deny Mickey anything; especially sex.  
  
It was the first time they had sex in a bed, and Ian couldn’t deny that he loved it. Having Mickey on his back, legs wrapped around Ian’s waist, head thrown back into the pillow as his back arched – it was the best feeling in the world, Ian thought.  
  
At least until the door opened and the light turned on.  
  
“What the fuck?!” Clary yelled when she took in the scene in front of her.  
  
Mickey unwrapped his legs from around Ian’s waist and tried to pull away, but it took a second for Ian to catch on and back off. As soon as he did, Mickey rolled off the bed and started pulling his boxers off. Ian didn’t care about things such as clothes, turning instead to face Clary.  
  
“Clary, I…” he started, but stopped. It felt like there was a chunk of ice in his chest, blocking his breath and his voice.  
  
Clary looked more hurt than Ian had ever seen her. Her fists were clenched at her sides, her chest heaving and her lower lip was trembling, even as she furiously blinked away the tears in her eyes.  
  
“How could you, Ian?” Her eyes were cold when they focused on Ian. “How could you?! I knew you liked him, but I never thought… _Fuck_.”  
  
To Ian’s utter surprise, Mickey approached Clary and put his hands on her shoulders. She jerked away from his touch, but Mickey held on harder.  
  
“Don’t be mad at Ian,” Mickey said, and though his voice wasn’t soft, it was… something. “Ian feels like shit about this, has been since the first time. Don’t hate him. If you’re gonna hate anyone, hate me.”  
  
He’d definitely gotten Clary’s attention now. She was looking up at him with wide eyes, seemingly not even noticing the tears rolling down her cheeks now. Ian was staring at Mickey too, the ice in his chest moving up to his throat. He swallowed harshly and blinked quickly, trying to get rid of the tears.  
  
“I lied to you. I’m not even straight.”  
  
For a second, there was only silence. Then Clary punched Mickey in the stomach, hard. Ian knew – he’d taught her to fight, he knew how hard she could punch.  
  
Maybe, Ian thought to himself, it would’ve been different if Mickey fought back. If Mickey fought back, Ian would’ve had a reason to move, to do something. No matter how much he loved Mickey – and he was pretty sure he did love Mickey, even if the insight terrified him – he couldn’t let him hit his best friend.  
  
But Mickey didn’t fight back. He bent over with that first punch, went down onto the floor with the knee Clary aimed at his chin, and he didn’t fight back. He didn’t even make a sound, just laid on the floor and took it.  
  
“Clary,” Ian said when he got his voice back. It was barely audible, his voice hoarse, but it was loud in the silence covering Clary’s kicks and punches and harsh breaths like a blanket.  
  
She froze and looked up at him, eyes wide and face open. She looked so hurt, and Ian felt his chest clench.  
  
“Clary, I’m so sorry.”  
  
She shook her head. “Just leave,” she said, voice breaking a little. “Please, just leave. And don’t try to contact me.”  
  
Ian felt like a part of him was ripped away, but he did as he was told. He stood from the bed, pulled on his boxers and went to Clary’s room to gather his things. When he got back out into the corridor, fully dressed, he saw Clary urging Mickey to do the same.  
  
Somehow, Mandy was still sleeping, so Ian tried his best to be quiet when he went down the stairs to put his shoes and jacket on. He didn’t wait for Mickey before he left.  
  
  
  
  
Three days passed, during which Ian didn’t talk to anyone who wasn’t family. Not Clary, not Mickey and not Mandy. Lip asked him several times what was going on, but Ian just grunted and turned away. Eventually Lip gave up and left Ian to his own devices.  
  
On the third day, Mickey barged into the Gallagher house while they were having dinner. He looked around for a moment before his eyes found Ian.  
  
“You,” he said, jerking his head towards the stairs, “upstairs.”  
  
Wordlessly, Ian stood up and went up the stairs, hearing Mickey follow him. He felt his family’s eyes on them, but no one said anything, and as soon as Ian and Mickey were out of sight he heard them go back to their dinner.  
  
Ian led Mickey to his room, closing the door as soon as they were both inside. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t for Mickey to press Ian up against the door and kiss him.  
  
“Fuck me,” he whispered in Ian’s ear when he pulled away, already backing towards the bed, but Ian stopped him.  
  
“Mickey, I… I can’t.” He sighed. “I need to sort things out with Clary.”  
  
Mickey actually growled, rolling his eyes at Ian. “I talked to her before I left the house, unlike you,” he said. “She said if I wanted to be with you, I could. She just needed time to think, or some girly shit like that.”  
  
And really, hadn’t Ian already established that he couldn’t say no to Mickey? He stared at the older boy for a minute before he moved forward, pressing Mickey down onto his bed.  
  
“Then you’re mine,” he said lowly, moving towards Mickey’s neck to bite at it. Mickey moaned, and Ian wanted to hear more of that. “ _Mine_. You hear that?” He punctuated his words by sucking a hickey on Mickey’s neck, making the smaller boy whine and buck up against him.  
  
“Yeah,” Mickey breathed, and Ian tried to ignore his disappointment that Mickey didn’t say _yours_.  
  
He could understand why Mickey had troubles with admitting he was gay. Even if he wasn’t exactly denying it, he had yet to say that he was.  
  
But that was an issue for another day, Ian thought – right now, he had a very horny Mickey Milkovich in his bed to deal with.

 

 

 

 

Clary called him a few days later. She sounded sad, still, but not angry.  
  
“I guess I can sort of understand why you did it,” she said, voice soft and making Ian’s heart ache, “both of you.”  
  
“I’m so sorry, Clary,” Ian replied, voice just as soft as hers. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to hurt you.”  
  
“I know,” Clary replied. “I know, Ian. But you did.”  
  
They were both silent for a minute, but then Clary sighed. “I guess I just wanted to tell you that I still want to be your friend. I can… I can get over this. I just need some time, okay? But if you want him, and he wants you – he’s all yours.”  
  
Ian opened his mouth to reply, but she hung up before he had a chance to decide on what to say.

 

 

 

 

A few days later, Mickey and Ian were sitting side by side on Ian’s bed. They were sharing a cigarette, not even bothering to open the window despite Fiona’s glares. Neither of them had said anything, but most of the Gallaghers had figured out by now that Mickey was Ian’s boyfriend – or at least Ian would like to think they were.  
  
“I am, you know,” Mickey said suddenly, out of the blue.  
  
Ian turned to look at him, frowning in confusion. “You’re what?” he asked. Mickey sighed and rolled his eyes, but then he smirked a little, holding the cigarette out to Ian.  
  
“Yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> [come prompt me!](http://cockslutovich.tumblr.com/)


End file.
